


New Memories

by Greenhouse_ghost



Category: Clone High
Genre: Clone High - Freeform, F/M, Goth Girl, JFK - Freeform, Joan loves her dumb jock boyfriend, Joan of Arc - Freeform, Opposites Attract, Slice of Life (Kind of), a lil bit of angst because who doesnt love that, abe is a pussy boy, abe lincoln is a piece of shit, and i love these idiots, himbo character arc, horror movies, im running out of tags, jfk is a scaredy cat, jfk loves his scary girlfriend, just a lot of really cute junk okay, maybe more tags later?, probably not, slow burn but not really, so im writing a fanfiction, theres a SERIOUS lack if joanfk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenhouse_ghost/pseuds/Greenhouse_ghost
Summary: Prom night: except this time it's wholesome.So this was the magical night teens always talked about- the very same night that would shape the rest of their lives. Well, if that actually held any truth, Joan would spend the rest of her life as a fraud. Sure, there were worse ways for a future to go, but parading around as someone she wasn't was far from ideal. Maybe she shouldn't let all Cleo's hard work go to waste. Jfk sure seemed to be getting a kick out of her new appearance, and quite frankly, it was her last shot at getting Abe. If looking like he wanted her to wasn't enough, she was sure nothing else would be.Maybe he wasn't what she needed.Maybe someone else needed her too.
Relationships: JFK & Joan of Arc (Clone High)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	New Memories

**Author's Note:**

> There's a SERIOUS lack of Joanfk content which is honestly shocking considering the ship dynamic, but in honor of those idiots, I'm writing my first fanfiction. (Not really- but its the first one I've published) Woo-hoo. This will probably just be rated T, but there is an extremely slight chance it will get up to M. That's probably the highest it will end up, but if you're a sad sack like me, you have nothing against wholesome relationships and bonding without doing the diddly.

So this was the magical night teens always talked about- the very same night that would shape the rest of their lives. Well, if that actually held any truth, Joan would spend the rest of her life as a fraud. Sure, there were worse ways for a future to go, but parading around as someone she wasn't was far from ideal. Maybe she shouldn't let all Cleo's hard work go to waste. Jfk sure seemed to be getting a kick out of her new appearance, and quite frankly, it was her last shot at getting Abe. If looking like he wanted her to wasn't enough, she was sure nothing else would be. 

Eyes growing puffy, Joan excused herself from the bleachers she was previously seated on, instead venturing to the girls bathroom, half shocked to see it empty as opposed to filled with drunk, naked teens. It was a pleasant surprise, but really did nothing to relieve her sorrows. 

Wiping the smeared black pigment from her eyes, she was about done. All that was left was her old clothes. She much preferred them to the itchy lace of the bra Cleo had tossed her way- not to mention it wasn't even the right size. Cleo spent money on a new dress, which was a shocker, and extended the same 'kindness' for undergarments that were too small. Apparently that was trendy for your boobs to spill out the top of your clothes, but to say it wasn't Joan's style would be a vast understatement. 

Now that she was out of the 'costume,' what else was a sad teen girl to do but sit on the stairs while the best night of her life passed by? That's what they always did in movies anyway, but it actually felt fitting for once to just park herself on the stoop and let out a good cry. That luxury was quickly swiped from her though- an all too familiar voice filling the silence that would have been occupied by angsty sobs. 

Great. 

What did he want? And why was he near her of all people? 

"Shouldn't you be with your other dates?" Her tone was annoyed, clearly cynical as one may expect from a spiteful goth girl. 

"Actually uh- Catherine the Great is uh- heaving bile into the hotdog vat and I uh- gave the Bronte sisters to the three stooges." A light chuckle followed his explanation, one she had grown accustomed to hearing over the past two days; after all, she encouraged it with her dumb giggling. It was only expected, but after all of the fraudulent interest she had thrown his way, she decided he still deserved the truth. 

"You know- I used you Kennedy. I used you to try and make Abe jealous." With a sigh of defeat, Joan's head fell into her hands, a grunt of frustration following suit.

"Agh! I'm such a girl!" Honestly, she had no idea what the exclamation actually meant, but it accurately represented how she felt, so the red-head chose to leave it at that. What she didn't expect to feel was the presence of a large hand on her shoulder. She should punch him for even touching her, but then he began to speak-

"Exactly." 

Wait, what? 

"You're a real knockout Betty, Joan; and a better Betty when you're not faking being a slutty whore." 

Okay. Something here didn't add up. 

Quickly, Joan adjusted her position to face the pompous athlete, shocked to take in the sight of his attempt in comfort. What was more shocking was the fact that it was actually working. God, did she really need validation this badly? That was besides the point. What she really wanted to know was whether he meant his words or not. 

"You mean- you like me? When I'm just me?"

"Ring a ding ding."

Well this had certainly been an unexpected turn of events. 

"That chowder-head Lincoln just can't see it without some bozo makeover!" 

A small smile crept up her lips as she listened in hidden awe to what he had to say. 

"I tell ya- that guy's head is so full a' chowder, he should have a bread bowl for a beard!" 

Well, that smile was gone now. 

The obnoxious chuckling began to fade, much to her relief. She wasn't ready to fake laugh like that again, especially not after what he had said. If he really meant it, she would have to admit she misjudged him, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Hell- it could even be a good thing if that was somehow possible. All she knew though, was staying on those steps a minute longer would drive her insane, likely from the awkward silence. Someone had to break it, and truthfully, Jfk had already done his part of making bold moves for the night. Now it was her turn. 

"Kennedy, do you wanna get out of here? It's probably not your style but I've got some horror movies at ho- well, at Cleo's, and I'm sure Toots wouldn't mind if I came home early."

In all actuality, her adoptive grandfather was probably trying to make soup in the washing machine again, but he never ate his creations which meant she wouldn't need to keep such heavy watch on him when he got 'cookin.' He may have been blind as a bat, but he somehow managed to make good choices, even if they weren't on purpose. That was always comforting to Joan, knowing she wouldn't show up to him convulsing on the roof after trying to pet some spikey, electrical dog. Wait- maybe that actually happened. Either way, he had learned from his mistakes (kind of) and didn't eat any of his own cooking, let alone venture too far into a place he wasn't used to. 

"Joan? You uh- there?" 

No wonder she had so much time to think of the worst possible scenarios. She had zoned out immediately after asking the question. Ah well, it wasn't as if deep thought was out of character for an edgy teenage girl such as herself. 

"Yeah! I didn't catch that though. Could you repeat it?" 

Kennedy stared at her with wide-eyes for a minute, half thinking she was in disbelief of what he had said, but then she mentioned she hadn't heard him and his creeping doubts vanished much like the mental image of Ponce after the school cleaned up their whole littering act. 

"I er- uh- said yeah! But uh- nothing too spooky. Don't want a Betty like you uh- getting too scared." 

Ah, yes. Because Joan scared so easily, didn't she? With a genuine sigh of amusement, she took the hand of her now standing prom date and hoisted herself from her concrete perch. 

Without hesitation, she hopped in the backup car he had left at the school. Sure, they rode a limo there, but that didn't stop him from leaving his precious baby parked in the back parking lot. It was crunched to pieces and held together with what seemed like scotch tape as any busted car would be after a drag race, but accepting the ride offer was probably the least stupid decision of all the others she had made during that night. 

Just as her purple lips parted to give directions, they shut themselves as if on cue. Of course he knew how to get there. Had she completely forgotten that he was with Cleo? It made her wonder if all this was just some ploy to get her back, but even so, she couldn't be upset because that was exactly what she was trying to do with him. Neither seemed to work, given if her being his date was truly intended to make a certain female pharaoh jealous, but maybe it was better this way. At least she knew Kennedy was capable of emotions beyond lust for what he couldn't have. She had seen him cry, laugh, and be genuinely happy. That didn't mean horny wasn't the main emotion of the bunch, but it was a refreshing variety in comparison to the nice guy facade her best friend had always chosen to put up. Kennedy was real. Kind of. There was no way his ass was that big naturally- but aside from that, he was real.

After a car ride of failed attempts to make the red-head laugh, the two of them pulled up into the driveway of a house that all but pained Joan to see. It was her own- kind of, but the overwhelming amount of Cleo on it was enough to make a girl sick. That wasn't what this was about though. Now, this was about forming new relationships and the two of them getting through their problems together. Sure, it was an unlikely duo, but maybe this friendship would actually be a friendship. The possibility of it coming to fruition was enough to blow her mind, though she was certain it had done nothing to his, though that would imply he actually had one. Whether he did or not wasn't an issue anymore though. The issue at hand had now become which movie she could pick that wouldn't make Kennedy piss his khakis. It was still boggling to her that the guy had wrecked his car in a drag race, (hence the battered vehicle in Cleo's usual spot in the driveway) almost died, and was afraid of moving pictures on a screen. Everyone had their fears though, right? Joan's were even stupider if she was being honest: the fear of being alone- oooooh how spooky! The fear of not being loved? So scary! Nonetheless, she managed to push those thoughts aside and pick out something fairly tame from her collection. 

Already, Jfk had shrunk himself into a little ball on the couch, half hiding beneath a blanket and trying desperately not to shake. What a wuss. Either way, it was endearing to know that even that dumbass had fears. Plopping herself down beside him, Joan tugged some of the blanket from his grasp and allowed it to drape over her lap. Popcorn was prepared, also sitting atop her cargo clad legs- something Kennedy all but lunged for as if it was his last solace of salvation from the horror on the screen. With a gentle laugh, Joan patted his leg in what could have been considered a comforting manner, though honestly, it was mostly out of amusement. 

"You know this isn't real, right? None of it can hurt you- especially if you throw popcorn at the creepy guys." With a faint 'plink,' she demonstrated her point, the busted kernel bouncing off the convex glass of the screen. As if enlightenment had just washed over him, Jfk grabbed the bowl from her lap and chucked the entire thing at the TV. Then, with a triumphant laugh as if he'd just defeated something, he gently elbowed her in the side, a wide grin overcoming his features as if to flaunt his 'victory.' 

Well, the food was gone now, but at least he seemed more comfortable with the media she had chosen. She still caught glances of him hiding his face in his hands a few times, but overall, he seemed to be enjoying himself. The few chuckles he let out helped to support her suspicions, which somehow, actually made her happy for some strange reason. 

Ah, right. She was trying to be friends with him. Well, mission accomplished. Kinda. They hadn't really talked this whole time, but the silence was still mutually enjoyed between the two of them, which was a good start in her eyes. An even better start would have been some meaningful conversation, but it seemed a little too early to just spill their guts to each other, and she had no intention of boring him with whatever dumb problems she had. A part of her was curious to hear what plagued him though. What does a high school jock with 2 brain cells have to worry about? Ponce died which honestly crushed everyone, but they all managed to get over it in roughly twenty two minutes- so what kind of things could hurt a Kennedy? After all, nothing bad ever happened to them. There was no way he could be accustomed to tragedy. 

Surely she would find out in time, but just springing the question of 'hey what makes you depressed' so suddenly wouldn't be a good move. Instead, she opted for something she knew he had a weakness for: dirty jokes. It was kind of stooping low for her, but to say she didn't laugh at them occasionally would be a lie. 

"Kennedy- why do astronauts bang a lot?" 

He glanced up at her, doing a double take before a large smile came across his face. He was clearly hopeful that whatever she was going to say would end in some dumb play on words, and luckily for him, it would.

"Because their asses are out of this world." 

With a playful shove at his shoulder, she watched in amazement as he hunched over with laughter. It wasn't that funny- but hey, at least he enjoyed it. 

But then 30 seconds passed. 

"Okay- Kennedy it wasn't that funny-" Instinctively, she grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to sit up, half concerned he was having some kind of stroke, but no, he just had a crummy sense of humor. 

Between heavy breaths, she heard him murmur "Asses! Out of this world! Because it's space!" in a few different configurations which lead her to believe she would be hearing that joke a lot more often from him in passing conversation. Just as he began to calm down, there was one final shout that he let out: "ASS-TRONAUTS!" followed by another fit of laughter before he eventually managed to subside his amusement. Well, now that that was over, she figured there was no better time than to offer him a drink or something. 

"Now that you can speak again- do you want something to drink? We've got a few options in the fridge if you wanna come." 

Jfk eagerly jumped from the sofa and followed her down the stairs into a kitchen that was littered with empty wine bottles, likely from Cleo's mom. Turning to look at him, a quizzical expression overcame her, one he somehow managed to catch onto rather quickly. 

"I'll uh- have a vodka on uh- the rocks! No ice!" 

Rocks were ice- whatever. 

"You're getting a capri sun." With a quick shoulder pat, she bent down and pulled two pouches from the box, gently tossing one for him to catch. After the initial shock he received from her denying his request, he managed to catch the glorified juice box and punch the straw in. 

"Can you deal with that for now?" 

Jfk feigned annoyance but nodded eagerly afterwards. His acting skills weren't the best, but the action still made her laugh a little. Maybe he actually was capable of being funny, but until that theory could be proven, she decided it was best not to push her luck, which honestly should have run out by now. There was no way she was going to form a friendship and have a good time all in one night. 

It was suspicious. 

Not in the mood to solve a mystery though, Joan grabbed Kennedy's hand and drug him back up the stairs. Of course, with her back turned to him, she failed to notice the faint crimson that dusted his cheeks. 

Interesting.


End file.
